


The Stallion and the Queen

by geekprincess26



Series: Babes of Winterfell [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Family, Fluff, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:05:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekprincess26/pseuds/geekprincess26
Summary: Sansa long ago forgot her dream of being crowned a Queen of Love and Beauty.  Someone - four someones - are determined to change that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 9 of Jon x Sansa Fanfiction’s 15 Days of Valentine’s challenge.

“Charge, mount, charge!”

 

The young knight held his lance at the ready and locked his legs around his horse. The animal responded by tossing its dark mane and neighing loudly, which induced a giggle from one of the ladies sitting in the stands.

 

However, the rider took no notice. “Charge!” he ordered again, and this time his mount plunged headlong at the knight’s opponent. Both horse and lance aimed straight and true. The knight’s weapon crashed straight into the chest of his opponent, who flopped off of his own mount like a sack of flour.

 

“Victory!” the young knight whooped. He held up his lance triumphantly, but in doing so lost his balance and fell clean off his horse. His lance clattered free of his grasp, and the moment it did, the horse reached down and began tickling him. The young knight squealed with glee.

 

The young lady in the stands who had giggled earlier now burst into a gale of laughter and flung herself at both knight and horse. “Me, too, Papa! Tickle me too!” she cried, and the horse happily obliged. That brought the knight’s squire out of the next room, where he had heretofore been concentrating ferociously over getting a blue top to spin just right. He forgot the top and leaped into the fray, at which the horse neighed loudly again and began to tickle him as well, much to the squire’s delight.

 

“Jon!” The lone lady remaining in the stands was nearly doubled over with laughter, but she raised a meaningful eyebrow at the handsome mount nonetheless. He rolled over, carrying his giggling daughter with him as he did so, and turned to face her mother.

 

“It’s near their bedtime,” said the lady. All three children frowned, but their papa held up his hand to stem the tide of protests that threatened to erupt from them.

 

“Aye, it is, my lady,” he said. “But we have not yet crowned the Queen of Love and Beauty, have we, good sirs and lady?” He wiggled his eyebrows at the children, who began giggling again. Then he held up a hand in mock horror. “But no! Where is the wreath? Can you find your papa a wreath, Sir Ned?” He poked the young knight in the belly, and the boy giggled harder. “Or you, Sir Robb? Or you, Lady Cat?” He repeated the gesture with the other children, who were just as pleased by the sound of it.

 

“Perhaps you might find a wreath in the box just yonder?” the man asked them when they had done laughing. He pointed to a small pine box just on top of one of the side tables. All three children rushed over and together pulled the box off of the table and presented it to their father, who opened it to reveal a circlet of sweet-smelling winter roses as blue as the eyes of the laughing lady, who had in fact stopped laughing and was gazing with wonder at the flowers.

 

“Thank you, good sirs and lady,” said the man as he removed the wreath from the box. “Now, I have heard tell that your mama has always wished to be crowned a Queen of Love and Beauty. Shall I crown her?”

 

Amid eager yells from the boys and more giggling from little Cat, the man walked on his knees over to the chair where his wife sat and gently set the crown on top of her head. She blushed furiously as he did so, but he only winked at her. Then he turned to face their children once again.

 

“Now, what say you, good sirs and lady? Shall I give the Queen of Love and Beauty her kiss?” he asked, and again received an affirmative response. He turned to hold his wife’s chin in one hand while he threaded the fingers of the other through the red hair now adorned by the roses and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips.

 

 _“Jon,”_ admonished his wife, who had now turned beet red, but she was smiling in spite of herself.

 

An hour later, the knight, squire, and lady had been bundled safely off to bed, and the handsome horseman was working the crown free of its perch on the head of the Queen of Love and Beauty. With both of them staring into the silver looking-glass in front of them, she pursed her lips at him. He merely raised an eyebrow.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

The Queen of Love and Beauty raised an eyebrow back. “I should have known Ned would start ruining that stuffed knight and horse as soon as I finished making them,” she said. Her husband smiled.

 

“Aye,” he said. “But he’s learning to be a good knight.” He winked and freed the last strand of his wife’s hair from the crown, which he set on her dressing table. She smiled at it for several moments with a faraway look in her eyes, then stood up and kissed her husband.

 

“I didn’t think you would have remembered that, my love,” she said, “but I thank you very much.”

 

The man shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said, and a slight flush crept into his face. “I only wish you hadn’t had to wait so long to have your dream fulfilled, and that not even at a proper tourney.”

 

The woman rolled her eyes. “I have long since tired of ‘proper’ tourneys,” she said. “And I could not possibly want a better tourney than tonight’s.” Her voice lowered, and she reached up to kiss her husband’s cheek. “Nor would I accept the crown from any other than my one true love.” She pulled back for a moment, and her husband looked at her quizzically. “But I should ask you, Jon: if I dreamed as a girl of being crowned Queen of Love and Beauty, what of your dreams as a boy? I know I did not bother to learn them at the time,” she added quickly, and her smile faltered. Her husband shook his head quickly, but she was first to open her mouth.

 

“I would take the time to learn them now,” she said earnestly. “Again, I wonder that I did not think of it. Perhaps not at the first, with the war and – and all that followed. But I would give you any of your dreams it is within my power to grant you.”

 

Her husband’s gaze intensified, and Sansa blushed. “Only one, and you have already given it to me, Sansa,” he said earnestly. “You gave it to me long ago.”

 

Sansa’s blue eyes registered her confusion. “But what is it, Jon?” she asked.

 

Her husband’s face reddened, but only for a moment.

 

“A family,” he said quietly. “A trueborn family, to call my own.”

 

Sansa blinked a few times, and when she had done, the candlelight flickered off of the moisture in her eyes. She reached up to cradle Jon’s face in her hands. “Then I am very glad to have been able to give it to you,” she whispered as his arms reached to encircle her waist. She tilted her head and beamed at him. “But perhaps you would like your trueborn family increased?”

 

He kissed her forehead. “If it is granted to us,” he whispered, “I should like it very much.”

 

Sansa shook her head and removed one of his arms from her waist. She took his hand and placed it on her stomach, then flattened one of her own hands on top of it. “What I meant, silly man,” she whispered back, “was to say that your trueborn family _will_ be increased beginning in about seven moons’ turn. She winked at his astonished look and swiped a finger teasingly across his nose. “Thanks to you.”

 

Jon, one hand still splayed across his wife’s stomach, reached up to cradle her face tenderly with the other. “And to you, my Queen of Love and Beauty,” he murmured as he bent to capture her eager lips. “Queen of my heart.”


End file.
